The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1887-07-01

CHAPTER XIV.

likely in themselves, that yet retain peculiar
power Of standing out in sharp relief, as we
cast our minds eye down the long vista of
our past. The group of events with which
these particular scenes were connected may
have long ago vanished from our mental
sight, or faded into a dim and misty uni
formity, and be as difficult to distinguish one
from the other as the trees of a forest viewed
from height. But here and there an event,
a sensation, or a face will stand out as per-
fectly clear as IL It had been that moment ex-
perienced felt or seen. Perhaps 10 is only
some scene of our childhood, such as fish
dartng beneath rustic bridge, and the rip
pie which its motion left upon the water We
have seen many larger fish dart in many fine
rivers since then, and have forgotten them,
but somehow that one little fish has kept
awake in the storehouse of our brain, where
most things sleep, though none are really OBJ
liberated.
It was in this clear and brilliant fashion
that every little detail of the scene was in
delibly photographed on Ernest's mind when,
on the morning following their meeting in
the cave, he said good by to Eva before they
went abroad. 1t was public good by, for,
rs it happened, there was no opportunity for
the lovers to meet alone. They were all
gathered in the little drawing room at the
| Cottage; Miss Ceswick seated on a straight
back chair in the bay window; Ernest on one
| side of the round table, looking intensely
| uncomfortable; Eva on the other, a scrap book
| in her hand, which she studously kept before
| her face; and in the background, leaning
carelessly over the back of a chair in such
way that her own face could not be seen,
though she could survey everybody else's,
was Florence Ernest, from where he sat,
| could just make out the outline of her olive
face and the quick glance of her brown eyes.
| A,,I CO tI,avc cut for n tt,p but
was said he could not remember it was only
| the scene that imprinted itself upon his
| memory.
And then at last the fatal moment came
he knew that it was time to go, and said
| good by to Miss Ceswick who made some
remark about his good fortune in going to
France and Italy, and warned him to be care
full not to lose his heart to foreign girl
Then he crossed the room and shook hands
| with Florence, who smiled coolly in his face,
and read him through with her piercing eyes;
and last of all came to Eva, who dropped her
album and pockethandksrchief in her con-
fusion as she rose to give him her hand. He
stopped and picked them up-the album he
| placed on the table, the little lace edged
handkerchief he crumpled up in the palm of
his left hand and kept; it was almost the only
souvenir he had % her. Then he took her
hand and for moment looked into her face.
1t wore a smile, but beneath it the features
were wan and troubled. 1t was SO hard
to 60.
"Well, Ernest said Miss Ceswick, "you
two are taking leave of each other as
solemnly as though you were never going
to meet again"
perhaps they never WILL" said Florence,
in her clear voice; and at that moment
Ernest felt as though he hated her.
"You should not croak, Florence; it is I'M
lucky said Miss Ceswick.
Florence smiled.
Then Ernest dropped the cold hand, and
turning, left the room. Florence followed
him, and snatching hat from the pegs,
passed into the garden before him. When he
was half way down the garden walk he found
her ostensibly picking some carnations.
~ want to speak to you for minute,
Ernest" she said; "tuin this way with me-"
and she led him past the bay window, down
small shrubbery walk about twenty PAGES
long 81 must offer you my congratulations"
she went on. 81 hope that you two will be
happy Such handsome pair ought to be
happy, you know"
"Why, Florence, who told youl"
"Tod mel nobody told me. / have seen
it all along Let me see, you first took a
fancy to another the night of the
Smythes dance, when she gave you rose,
and the next day you saved her life quite in
the romantic and orthodox way Wen, and
then events took their natural course, till one
evening you went out sailing together in a
boat. Shall go onl'
81 don't think it is necessary, Florence. I
am sure don't know how you know all these
things"
She had stopped, and was standing slowly
picking carnation to pieces leaf by leaf.
"Don't youp she answered with a laugh.
| nd loitit hot
other people are. l have been thinking,
Ernest, that it is very fortunate that found
out my little mistake before you discovered
yours. Surprising really had cared for you,
the position would have been awkward now,
would it notl"
Ernest was forced to admit that it would
"But luckily, you see, | do not. / am only
your true friend now, Ernest; and it is as
friend that wish to say word to you about
Eva-a word Of warning"
$50 on"
, "You love Eva, and Eva loves you, Ernest,
but remember this, she is weak as water. She
always was so from child; those beautiful
women often are; nature does not give them
everything you see."
"What do you meant"
"What l say, nothing more. She is very
weak and you must not DO surprised il she
throw you over"
| heavens, flOrellceI why, SIG loves
me with all her hearth
| "Yes, but women often think Of other
things besides their hearts But there,
don't want to frighten you, only would not
, quite pin all my faith to Eva's constancy
t however dearly you may think she loves you.
Don't look SO distressed, Ernest; | did not
t wish to pain you. And remember that, il any
: difficulty should arise between Eva and you
5 you will always have me on your side. You
t will always think of me as your true friend
! won't you, Ernestl" and she held out hel
Q hand
He took it, sndeed will, he said.
!, They had turned now, AMI again reached
r the bay window, one of the divisions of which
a | stood open. Florence touched his arm anC
pointed into the ROOM He looked in through
4 the open window. Miss Ceswick had gone
but Eva was still at her old place by tb,
a table. Her head was down upon the table
resting on the album he had picked up, anC
he could see from the motion of her shoulder
+" that she was sobbing bitterly. Presently sh
: lifted her FACET was all stained with tear
It only, however, TO drop 1t again Ernes
4 made motion as though he would enter tn
o house, but Florence stopped him.
"Best leave her alone" she whispered; an
Q then when they were well past the window
" added aloud: 81 am sorry that you saw he
It like that; If you should never meet again, o
y be separated for a very long time, it wi
l. leave u painful recollection in your mind
o Well, good by. l hope you will enjoy youl
u self"
10 Ernest shook hands in silence-there was
5, lump in his throat that prevented him fror
% speakng-and then went on his way feelin
1t utterly miserable, AS for Florence, she pu
10 up her hand to shade her keen eyes from th
10 sun, and watched him until he turned tn
!, corner with a look of intense love and Ions
ing which slowly changed into one Of bite
Is hate. When he was out Of sight she turne,
and making her way to her bedroom fun
W herself upon the bed, and burying her face
1t the pillow TO stine the sound Of her sobbinI
re gave way TO an outburst of jealous rage thi
s. was almost awful in its intensity
O. Ernest had only just time to go back
l Dum's Ness and 60 through the form of ea
'u ing some luncheon before he was obliged
10 start to catch his train. Dorothy had packC
u his things and made all those little prepar
ia tions for his journey that women think Of, S
%. after going to the office TO bid good by TO h
nj uncle, who shook him heartily by the har
he and bade him not forget the subject Of the
conversation, he had nothing TO do but jun
va into the cart and start In the sitting roo
al he found Dorothy waiting for him with
or coat and gloves; also, Jeremy, who was goiI
,a to drive TO the station with him. He put
his coat In silence. thav vera all ouita silau